I Steal Stars
by MissMayFlowers
Summary: A twist on the typical twin storyline. "My 'parents' called me a replication. My 'brother' called me a freak. The muggle term is clone. I call myself the Anti-wizard." "I'm going to make them regret creating me. I'm going to steal their hope, stop their magic. Permanently." Dark!Harry LV/HP
1. Chapter 1: Mars

**This wasn't what I was intending to write, but it's what came out. I'll roll with it.**

**Tried to put a spin on the twin bwl storyline. It's a short introductory chapter.**

**WARNINGS: Dark!Harry, SLASH**

**PAIRINGS: TMR(LV)/HP**

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><p>I am no stranger to the forbidden. What I did today would be considered such by many. I don't care. I have abilities, I should use them. Using them properly requires practice, and that required wizards to practice on.<p>

Four people plus my self, all of them unaware they were my test subjects. The experiment took place in Knockturn Alley, a shady bar where many patrons kept their hoods up like I did. It smelled foul, but I'd had worse.

Gambling happened at the two big tables, I chose the one farthest from the door. I could see everyone there using magic to cheat. I played a couple games without using my abilities. Predictably, I lost all five.

The next game was set. I put all my money in the middle, which wasn't a lot, but my hand was perfect. The man across from me gave a crooked smile, most of his teeth were missing. The last round of betting ended with all the money in the pot. Then, I struck.

It worked just as I had planned, after they bet, I used my power and none of them could continue cheating. They couldn't say anything either. I knew for sure. Wizards were prideful, even these lowlifes, saying something would be admitting they didn't cheat well enough. Besides, my opponents were too busy trying to figure out who or what had blocked their magic.

I didn't win, I wasn't aiming to win, that would just make them believe it was me. I came in second and left without a word. It was one of my better plans. I admit I'm not always this careful.

The Ministry of Magic has noticed and think it's some kind of obscure curse that makes people lose their magic for a few minutes. Idiots. You can't 'lose' magic.

Wizards don't have magic, they use it. The Earth is where raw magic comes from. Wizards posses a sort of channel that picks up this raw magic and directs it through their body, giving it intention. Then they use wands to complete the channel, giving it direction. The magic flows out of the wand, forming a spell. Once the spell is complete, the excess magic returns to the Earth and the cycle begins anew. I've seen it happen a million times.

I'm not a wizard, by the way. Not a muggle either, or a squib. My 'parents' called me a replication. My 'brother' called me a freak. The muggle term is clone. I call myself the Anti-wizard.

It started eighteen years ago. There was a dark lord, what wizards call someone with a following and ideas the majority don't agree with. They also have to use dark magic, something that doesn't exist. Anyway, this dark lord decided killing babies was a thing he wanted to do.

One night, he went to the house of the Potter family, who happened to have a baby and were also on the 'light' side of the war. He tried to kill their baby, but something happened. I'm not quite clear on this next part since no one knows what happened. The outcome though, was that the dark lord Voldemort disappears and the child was left with just a scar. That child, Harold Potter, was hailed as the-boy-who-lived.

Bad news though, Harold got ill. He was teetering on the edge of life and death. The Potters were worried, but so was the leader of the 'light' side Albus Dumbledore. For who would save them when the dark lord returned?

Dumbledore convinced the Potters to use very illegal and explicitly forbidden methods to save the savior. Creating me, Harry Potter, a supposed exact copy of Harold. It was a pretty stupid thing to do.

Harold got better, which was wonderful for everyone but me. The Potters explained the extra baby by saying that Lily Potter actually had twins. Little Harry had always been sickly, and no, he couldn't go outside and play.

Thank goodness the spell didn't work fully! I was a squib in their eyes, so they sent me off to Lily's sisters house. Got rid off me quicker than you can say "Quidditch." I'd rather not recount those years with my aunt and uncle.

I'd always been able to see magic, I just thought I was a normal wizard. By the time I figured out I was different, I knew I wasn't loved enough to be accepted. I would be dangerous to them, as someone able to block magic.

I survived the six years with my family, could only take two with my uncle. I ran away as fast as I could, and never looked back. Four months on the street before the police caught me. They didn't really care if I had relatives, at least not enough to check if I was lying. The rest of my childhood was spent at an orphanage, mostly staying away from the other children.

I'm back in the wizarding world now, oh, and so is Voldemort. I'm not going to join him, I have no intention of serving anyone. I do want him to win, though. For now, I'll stick to being on my own side.

I'm going to make them regret creating me. I'm going to steal their hope, stop their magic. Permanently.


	2. Chapter 2: Mercury

**Thank you for the support! I was nervous about writing Dark!Harry for the first time, but I'm liking it so far. Also, before there are any misconceptions, there are no horcruxes in this story.**

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><p>I find it to be a common mistake, especially among lower-class wizards, to have disrespect for one's enemies. I could easily call Albus Dumbledore a senile old man, and though it might give me a small amount of joy it was miniscule compared to the satisfaction of winning a game of wits. Dumbledore was an expert at playing the public. Simultaneously achieving his many titles and high position, while still appearing as someone harmless.<p>

To put Dumbledore below me in my mind would leave me unprepared for him to make smart moves. Like the one he made in today's Daily Prophet.

_Albus Dumbledore urges public to be on the look out for magic blocking curse. _

The article told one thing. Dumbledore wants the public to look for me. Not to stay safe, or call out at the first sign of the curse, but to look out for it. He's going to let them bring me straight to him, so he can give me a disappointed look for my little experiments and 'steer me toward the right path'.

It was a good move, and it drove me into a corner. I can't block magic for noticeable amounts of time in public, which is what I've been trying to practice. No one in Knockturn Alley is going to sit around a shady bar for hours when they know their magic is being blocked. I can't block from that large of a distance either…

I will have to move with delicate precision from now on. Neutrality, though favorable, is not where I will find what I need. Information, about the dark side, the nature of this war and where I wish to stand in it. Though I would like to support the dark lord, many of his beliefs are misguided. I need to know if I could persuade him to change.

So, as the light shines into the shadowy corner where I hide, I will sneak up behind. Becoming their own shadow. Waiting for the right moment to stab them in the back.

I hope I'm a good enough actor to pull this off.

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><p>I remember this place well. It was an escape from the suffocation I faced in the Potter manor. Always an artifact to be found and studied. In hindsight, my babysitters weren't the most observant of people.<p>

The fidelius charm was only a minor annoyance. Making the perimeter of where number twelve Grimmauld Place resided glimmer like a reflection in water. I hunched my shoulders and tried to look as pitiful as I could in case someone was peeking through the window. I don't think they would be able to see me in the darkness of a night with no moon, but it never hurts to be careful.

I staggered up to the door and knocked, once quietly, then harder and increasingly more urgent. The door was swung open and a wand was pointed in my face.

"Who are you? How did you get this address? What is your business here?" My old babysitter and best friend to James Potter himself, Sirius Black interrogated me on the spot.

I lowered the hood of my cloak and blinked up at him.

"Harry?" Sirius was obviously surprised.

"Sirius...I think I've done something bad." I said quietly, my voice croaky from how little I use it, but that added to the effect.

Sirius pulled me inside by the arm and shut the door. I turned the wrong direction, toward the kitchen. I could see people through the open kitchen door and I swallowed down something bitter.

"Harry, what is the meaning of this?" James Potter asked sharply.

"I didn't mean to!" I cried out then lowered my voice for the next sentence. "I can't control it and I - I - sorry."

"Harry, honey, what's the matter?" Lily's fake kindness bothered me more than the hostility from her husband. It was clear on her face that she just wanted me gone.

"My boy, why don't you explain to us what's going on? Start from the beginning" Dumbledore said as he walked into the entrance hall.

I turned my head away, blocking Legitimacy while looking suitably guilty I hope.

"I can see it…" I muttered.

"See what?" Dumbledore asked.

"Magic." The collective gasp made me want to bang my head against something, this whole situation did the same. I reminded myself it was necessary and continued the act.

"Since my seventeenth...birthday. It's gotten out of control and I...can do other things too."

"Like what?" A person I didn't recognise asked.

"Stop spells and recently...turn wizards into muggles." I lied about the last part, but it made me more of a threat. Which could be both good and bad for me.

I refused to look up from the floor. Mostly to stop myself from laughing at the horror displayed on the faces around me.

"My boy, I am glad you have come to us. Power like this requires proper training."

Dumbledore said. I sneaked a peek at his face. I could see a small flash of suspicion in his eyes when he sent a reassuring smile my way.

"Albus-" James started to speak, but was cut off by Dumbledore.

"I think we should all agree, that though dangerous, this power can be used for good." Dumbledore said, he sure had his group trained well.

"Now Harry, you've caught us in the middle of a rather pressing meeting. So, if you would please join the others in the living room." Albus said. I did as I was told.

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><p>Surprisingly I wasn't the only adult kicked out of this oh so important meeting. Harold was there, and the Weasley boy of the same age, Ron. As well as the Weasley's pair of twins, Fred and George and a girl I didn't know. The were hunched around the door listening in when I opened it.<p>

Harold scrambled backwards.

"Don't come near me freak!" He yelled.

"Harold!" The girl said, outraged.

"You don't know what he's like Hermione." Ron said.

"Good to see ya again Harry." The twins said.

I greeted them back and sat on the couch. The girl gave me a curious look. I could feel the fear radiating from Harold and Ron.

"Don't even think about using your freak powers on me!" Harold said, he hasn't changed. He has a striking resemblance to my uncle in the way he acts. In looks he's too skinny to be a mini-Vernon. No muscle, tall, spangly. Short, messy black hair and green eyes behind glasses. I'd done my best to look as different from him as possible.

"Even if I could control my power, why would I waste it on you?" I wanted to add an insult to his famed magical power, that's truthfully as average as it gets. I held my tongue, starting fights will make them treat me like even more of a child. I will take the high road. Destroying Harold Potter's ego would only lessen the impact of the final blow.

I was quiet and caused no trouble for the next few days. I wasn't let out of the house, but the library kept boredom at bay. I had it all to myself today. Harold's bookish friend Hermione was off to training with him and Ron. Unfortunately, my brain refused to focus. I moved the book on magical theory to the side and got up to stretch. Walking amongst the shelves, I looked for a book I wouldn't have to pay attention to. Ah, 'The Art of Divination for Herbologists', perfect.

I took the book down from it's high shelf and flipped it open to the middle. Inside, the middle of the pages was cut out. Inside the hole created was a dusty leather bound book - no - journal. I closed the fake book and put it back. I sat back down at the study table and studied the journal. The pages were all blank except for an inscription on the first page reading 'T. M. Riddle'.

Grabbing a quill and ink pot I flipped to the second page.

_What are you?_

I wrote, trying to be delicate. My handwriting still turned out atrocious. Excuse me for not writing with a bloody quill for most of my life. I felt a little strange asking the question, but the journal had an aura of magic. Sometimes, if left alone for long enough, magic objects develop a mind of their own.

The aura around the journal pulsated and the words I wrote slowly faded away. Then...nothing. Maybe it would take a while? I closed the journal and carried it back to the room I shared with Harold and Ron. I hid the journal under my mattress and forgot about it until the next day.

Turning to the page I wrote on, i found it no longer blank.

_A friend._

The words were written neat and curly on the page. I glared at them. What I knew of magical objects, this wasn't one. The reply had been delayed. It had to be connected to a person, a wizard.

_What is your name, wizard?_

I watched my words disappear, along with the reply to my first question. I only had to wait a couple minutes for the reply this time.

_Tom Riddle. How did you guess I was a wizard?_

I smirked, and wrote my reply.

_It was not a guess, Tom, magical objects do not delay replies. _

I made the assumption that Tom must be a busy man, he didn't reply until the evening.

_What is your name?_

I didn't write Harry Potter, that's not who I am. I wrote the name I had given myself.

_Salem._

There was a pause before Tom's next words appeared.

_Quite the ironic name for a wizard. _

A thrill passed through me as I wrote the next sentence.

_I am no wizard, Tom._


End file.
